As Alus was violently rebuffing the Goddess’s attempt to court him as her champion against his own sister, Kanata continued cheerfully along her way, blissfully ignorant of both the Goddess’s schemes and her brother’s worries.
“Go, boy!” she cried, lightly tossing a ball. It landed a short distance ahead of her and gently rolled along the ground.
A pure white furball came bounding past her, running for all he was worth to catch up to the ball just a few feet ahead.
“Raaahhh! Just leave it to me, Lady Kanata!”
Despite all appearances, this ball of fur was none other than the legendary Spirit Wolf Fenrir, who had accompanied the girl known as the First Saint on her quest to save the world a thousand years ago.
“Raaahhh! Grahaaaa! Soon! Soon, the ball will be in my grasp!”
As short as the distance Kanata had thrown the ball was, the furball’s stubby little legs were so short that traversing the distance was a feat of effort. He really looked nothing at all like his former self—a divine spirit who protected humanity from disasters of all sorts, with the power to strike down legions of foes. In this form he was so weak it would move anyone’s heart to pity, but the young girl watching him run wore an expression of pure joy.
“Haahh... Haahh... I can’t take it!” she cried. The sight of Fenrir running so desperately was just about the most precious thing Kanata could imagine. “Fen-fen’s legs are going pitter-patter! It’s just too muuuuuch!”
“Yes!” Fenrir said. “I got it! Knave of a ball! Did you think you could get away from me?! Now, to take you back to Lady Kanata!” Carrying the ball in his mouth, he set out once again on his stubby little legs, returning to the one who had thrown it. “Pant...pant... Drat! How can one ball be so heavy? Is this thing made of iron?!”
It was, of course, an utterly unremarkable rubber ball. It was a toy even a toddler could toss around without much effort. But with Fenrir’s shocking degree of feebleness, he needed several breaks on his journey before he finally managed to make it all the way to Kanata.
“Wow!” Kanata cheered. “You did so good, Fen-fen! Who’s a good boy?!”
“C-Could it perhaps be me?! Oh, what a tremendous honor!” Panting with fatigue, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, Fenrir gazed blissfully up at his master’s happy face.
“Hah,” Zag’giel laughed scornfully, watching Fenrir’s dopey expression as Kanata patted him on the head. “Frolicking like a baseborn dog, we see. To think that the legendary Spirit Wolf Fenrir would be reduced to such a state. How pathetic.”
Having said that, he returned to his somber business of trying to catch the bit of bristly grass Kanata was waving with her other hand, jabbing with his kitty paws as she pulled it away.
“Ahhh!” Kanata sighed. “Zaggy playing with the bristle grass...cute cute cute cute cute!”
Fenrir jolted to his feet and marched over to the erstwhile monarch, incensed by his hypocrisy.
“What of it, Demon King?” he demanded. “You seem to be playing around yourself!”
“What about this looks like playing around to you?” Zag’giel demanded imperiously. Needless to say, it didn’t look like Zag’giel was doing anything but playing around. “This is a new training regimen Kanata has devised for us! She ordered us to visualize the bristle grass as our opponent, that we may learn to increase the swiftness of our attacks!”
Kanata had said no such thing, but Zag’giel excused all of his playing around with Kanata as training.
“I-It’s the same for me!” Fenrir said. “Lady Kanata herself is teaching me to follow the quick movements of my prey!”
This, too, was false. Kanata had merely wanted to play fetch.
“Good boys!” Kanata said, showering the two with praise. “You’re both doing so good! You’re the best!”
Kanata’s praise was meant for the two beasts’ cuteness, not their strength, but of course the pair misunderstood. They threw themselves back into their training with gusto.
“Hisssss! Mreowr!” Zag’giel cried as he hopped on his stubby back legs, trying to reach the bristle grass. “Bwa ha ha! Yes! The day we can defeat a slime is drawing near, we feel it!”
“Wh-What?!” Fenrir reeled in awe. “I can’t let him beat me! I will be the first one to defeat a slime!”
The other day, Zag’giel and Fenrir had boldly challenged a slime they encountered on the road, only to find the tables turned on them by their would-be prey. The two were deeply upset by their pitiful state, but Kanata was enjoying herself just fine praising them and fluffing them and saving a recording of the cute movements the pair called “training” in the album in her brain.
“No!” countered Zag’giel. “It will be we, the first to defeat the slime!”
“No, me!”
“No, we!”
“No, me!”
The two drew closer to each other with every exchange, until their foreheads were pressed right up against their adversary in a menacing glare.
“Grrrrr!” both cat and dog growled, neither backing down.
“Oh gosh oh wow!” Kanata gushed as she watched the fierce battle taking place in front of her. “Their little foreheads are stuck together! Soooo cute!”
Just when it was starting to seem like the world’s two weakest magic beasts were going to be facing off like that for all eternity, the pair’s limited stamina ran out and they called an end to the day’s training session. Despite all their efforts, neither Zag’giel nor Fenrir showed the least bit of growth. Their chance of victory against a slime remained as dismal as always.
“Pant...pant...” sputtered Zag’giel. “P-Perhaps we had best call it there for today...”
“Huff...huff...” Fenrir gasped for air. “Th-That’s my line...”
The two flopped to the ground, exhausted, even though all they had managed to do was nudge and jostle each other slightly.
“You two both did great!” said Kanata, hugging the two exhausted critters close. She returned Zag’giel to his perch atop her head and held Fenrir in her arms. “What a lovely lunch break! Ready to get back to the road?”
Just a little farther and they would be able to see the next village. The road they were on received a great deal of carriage traffic, and most of the villages offered inns to stay the night. Kanata didn’t want to force her two adorable fluffballs to spend the night camping outside if she could help it.
The covered wagon they were riding in had once belonged to Kanata’s mentor figure, Albert Molmo—Grandpa Monster himself. It had been repaired and upgraded by the master smith, Lily, to be a splendid vehicle indeed. However, pulling the wagon was not a horse, but an enormous wolf with brilliant silver fur. This was Fenrir’s main body, although the Spirit Wolf’s soul currently resided in the furball squeezed tight in Kanata’s arms. While his soul was there, he could move his larger wolf body remotely.
“All right, Fen-fen!” said Kanata. “Ready?”
“By your command, Lady Kanata!” the large and small Fenrirs replied in perfect harmony.
“We told you not to speak with both bodies at once!” Zag’giel protested, his ears flattening back on his head in distress. “It is disconcerting!”
“Let’s gooo!” Kanata cheered.
The wagon rolled smoothly down the road. If Fenrir had been going full speed, it would have taken them no time at all to reach their destination. However, there were other travelers on the road, both in vehicles and on foot, and he was trying to be considerate of their surroundings. Kanata had told him that it was fine to take it slow, so he did his best to keep to a reasonable speed and not cause trouble for anyone else.